


How (Not) To Befriend Your Local Unfriendly Lesbian

by RichBitch2000



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Always Female Thomas Barrow, Gen, but she's a lesbian, it's not explicitly stated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27280804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichBitch2000/pseuds/RichBitch2000
Summary: Jimmy's sure that Lady Edith's maid will fancy him, after all, why shouldn't she?
Relationships: Thomas Barrow & Jimmy Kent
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	How (Not) To Befriend Your Local Unfriendly Lesbian

**Author's Note:**

> Small sexual assault midway through, about the same level as Jimmy's date with Ivy in canon.

As places go, Jimmy thought, this wouldn’t be the worst one to end up working at. This of course had nothing to do with the small hoard of young women surrounding him. He chatted with them for a little while, delighting in their flustered expressions, before turning at a noise behind him.

A woman had stepped into the doorway. She was tall, surpassing Jimmy by several inches, with the most handsome face he had ever seen on a downstairs lady (even surpassing many he had seen upstairs, despite her lack of jewellery or fine clothing). Her dark hair was pulled attractively off her face, in a way that Jimmy was sure was the height of fashion, just edging on belonging to a lady of a higher station. 

The woman looked him up and down consideringly, an action that Jimmy was not unused to, giving him a small smirk before speaking. 

“Who’s this then?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Jimmy Kent, at your service.” He replied, with a wide grin.

“Right.” she said, appearing underwhelmed, “Well I’m Mary Barrow, ladies maid to Lady Edith. I’m guessing you’re here to interview for one of the footman positions.”

“Right you are Miss Barrow.” Jimmy let a smirk of his own settle on his lips, it never hurt to get the women of the house onside, and he thought getting this particular one to like him wouldn’t be too much of a hardship, “I hope you’ll be crossing your fingers for me.”

She hummed with narrowed eyes, “Just Mary will do, I suppose.” Mary, seemingly done with the conversation, wasted no more effort on him, before passing him by on her way out of the door.

Well, he supposed, as first introductions go, it wasn’t his worst, but he was sure he could do better.

-

Jimmy, despite his best efforts in the days shortly following his hiring at Downton, did not see much of the illustrious Mary Barrow. He tried his best to smile charmingly at her whenever they passed in the halls, however that usually resulted in an unconvincing, stilted smile that did not seem to reach her eyes. He was somewhat baffled, usually all he had to do was look at a maid or cook and they would be blushing and falling all over themselves to try and keep his attention, twirling their curls around their fingers and giving him long looks under their eyelashes. The only time Mary had looked at him under her eyelashes was when he was standing (several) steps above her on the staircase, and she had asked him tersely to “Move out of the way, if your wouldn’t mind, if you don’t feel like actually using the stairs this century Jimmy.”

At least she was still calling him that. Mr Carson was still holding fast in retaining his given name with the family, and had not relented to at least use Jimmy when he was downstairs, which would’ve been a comprise much easier to accept. No, now he was ordered to polish the silver and iron the newspapers with a name he couldn’t stand, which made it ever so much more pleasant didn’t it?

Frustratingly, he was also puzzled by his new coworkers. On the whole they seemed very dull and pedestrian, however every once in a while they would respond in the weirdest ways to things he said, and he really couldn’t understand them at all. It was as if there was a massive conspiracy they were all apart of, which they desperately wished to talk about, but knew they shouldn’t. 

It had mostly come to ahead at the breakfast table not too long after he had started (both Mary’s avoidance, and his complete confusion at this colleagues), he had started to try and muscle his way into a new conversation, desperate to escape Alfred’s dull recollection of a film he had seen years ago (and couldn’t seem to remember any detail of, but the many breeds of dogs that had apparently been littered throughout). He had heard Mary berating Lily the housemaid for waking her up the night before.

“Why you were wandering around the corridor at three o’clock in the morning I really don’t want to know. But if you wouldn’t mind not slamming the doors in future it would be much appreciated.” She had bitten out. 

Jimmy had grinned into his toast. Although his first major interest of Mary had come from her looks, her personality only fuelled his fascination. She never seemed to care much about the effect of her words on other people, only caring that her point was put across, usually with as large an audience as possible. It was not the typical behaviour of a ladies maid, and seemed to turn Carson’s face red whenever she got heard, but it was bloody entertaining.

Lily had turned light pink. “Yes, um, sorry about that Mary,” she had murmured into her lap, “Won’t happen again, promise.”

“See that it doesn’t,” Mary had sniffed, “Honestly, by the time I was asleep, it was time to be woken up again! I couldn’t have gotten more than four hours in total, honestly!”

Anna had turned from where she had been chatting with her husband, seemingly frustrated by the anger directed at the housemaid. “Well if you didn’t insist on whatever elaborate updo you’ve seen in a copy of Vogue every morning, you’d have a lot more time to sleep Mary,” she said calmly, before taking a large sip of tea.

Jimmy had seen Mrs Hughes turn to the conversation with a frown on her face, probably having heard the start of the conversation, and knowing it could turn into a proper argument within seconds if Mary decided to turn nasty. Mary had gotten a sour look on her face, and had opened her mouth, likely to deliver a scathing retort. Not wanting to see the ladies maid in too much trouble, Jimmy jumped in.

“Well our Miss Barrow doesn’t exactly need as sleep as everyone else does she? Not with how beautiful she is already,” he had interjected, with a sly smile on his lips, and a wink to Mary. 

It had been quite smooth, he had thought, a subtle insult to Anna in implying that she does need a healthy amount of beauty sleep (which was not quite true, Anna’s was decidedly not in need of any rejuvenation, but it might help get Mary onside), made sure to redirect conversation into something that wouldn’t result in Mary getting a scolding, while delivering a cheeky compliment.

However, the response had decidedly not been what he had expected. He had been prepared for a blushing, grateful look from Mary (actually, coming from her, maybe a raised eyebrow and a wink back may have been a more accurate expectation), maybe a stern word to stop flirting and get back to his toast from Carson or Mrs Hughes, and a few giggles or shocked looks around the table at his daring.

What followed however, had been none of those reactions. Firstly, Mary had not looked pleased at neither his interruption, nor at his compliment. Instead, she had looked at him with a very unimpressed expression and her nostrils flared before heaving a deep breathe at looking back at the rest of the table as if to also gauge their reaction to his statement. 

Anna, far from looking offended by his slight, had looked very amused, trading long looks with her husband, both hiding their smirks behind their teacups. Mrs Hughes, unlike when he had flirted with Ivy in exchange for a few extra biscuits the day before, had not been angry, or seemingly anything approaching it. Rather, she had exchanging a slightly bemused and concerned glances with Carson. She must have decided that Mary was not in need of any protection from her, Jimmy supposed, maybe because she was a bit older than Ivy, or because of how much more obviously world weary she was. As it was, neither had decided to do anything but give him wary looks.

Alfred, the dolt that he was, had not decided to do anything remotely useful, blurting out a “You’ve spent a lot of time admiring Mary then, have you Jimmy?” with a wide grin on his face. 

Jimmy, uncharacteristically, blushed. Flirting in front of a table of people was one thing, to be not-quite-rejected and mocked was another. Luckily, the bells began to ring, and in the throng of people, he was able to slip away to the door without being in earshot for anymore comments.

He had made it to midmorning before being spoken to about the incident, rather than the sly looks he had been receiving while moving around the furniture in one of the sitting rooms for cleaning. Mary had cornered him with a strong hand on his arm, before leaning in closer. “Listen, I don’t know what anyone’s told you, but I’m not interested in anything,” she had hissed in a low, and strangely attractive, voice.

“Uh, right you are Miss Barrow,” he had replied, still somewhat embarrassed by the mornings events. 

“Right,” she had said awkwardly, looking as if she had expected to be arguing the point for a bit longer yet. “Er, right, yes, good! Glad that’s sorted then. It’s not that you’re a bad bloke or anything Jimmy, it’s just that I’m not really the, uh, marrying time, shall we say,” She had moved her arm away, blushing slightly, and looked to be about to walk away in a hurry.

“We can be friends though, right?” He had asked, desperate to not leave things on such an awkward note, and twice as eager not to be left on Mary’s bad side, where terrible and unfortunate things tended to happen to people.

She had looked taken aback, with her dark eyes going wide, before beginning to smile. It was a charming little thing, that he hadn’t seen before, how had he never seen her smile in the days he had already been around her?

“Yes, of course, I could always use a friend me, not too many to be had around here.”

He had desperately wanted to draw that smile out again, and, lacking any other ideas, thought to tease it out of her. “Not much time to make friends with all the elaborate hairstyles in the morning, is that it?” he had grinned nervously. He had worried that she might get offended, but instead she had just smiled a little sadly. 

“I’m not sure it’s my beauty routine that puts people off me,” she had muttered, before brightening slightly, “Still, I’ve got one now haven’t I?”

“Aye, I should say so,” he had said.

Since then, Jimmy had just decided that in the time before he came to Downton, some great drama had occurred that had caused the friction between Mary and the rest of the house. Something not bad enough to be fired over, or even demoted, but enough that she was always on the defensive around them, and they around her, and meant that they all acted so strangely. Still, Jimmy reckoned, it wasn’t his business what had happened before, it only mattered that Mary clearly fancied him, that stuff about not being the ‘marrying type’, surely just nerves settling in. Perhaps she hadn’t attracted much male attention before (though he wasn’t sure how), and wasn’t sure how to handle it. He just had to take it a bit slow now, and reap the rewards later.

As it were now, being someone that Mary considered a friend was much more fun than being seen as a new, if surely quite handsome, acquaintance. She had the quickest wit of anyone he had ever met, could throw any insult back into someone’s face, and knew much more that Jimmy had considered there was to know about the house. For instance, not too long into their friendship, he had dropped some of His Lordship’s shoes he was carrying downstairs for Mr Bates (though how he had gotten roped into doing him a favour was anyone’s guess), and managed to to leave a scuff mark on both the wall and one of the shoes. Within five minutes of panicked whispering with Mary, she had somehow managed to clean the wall, while convincing Alfred to take the blame with Mr Bates. She was a brilliant, whirlwind of a woman, while being one of the calmest people Jimmy had ever met. She was like a thief that would leave you smiling while she took every possession you had ever owned.

He had never been friends with a woman before, always thought them fanciful and frankly rather boring to talk too. He was fast beginning to realise just how wrong he was. Make no mistake, Jimmy thought, he still couldn’t stand a full conversation with Daisy for all the tea in China, but other woman, Mary for example, was some of the most riveting conversation he had ever had. He often found himself floundering for something to say, not because she was awkward to talk too, but because he was desperate to not appear boring when he did manage to form a proper sentence.

“You know, I usually find dreaming much more efficient when I’m actually sleeping, sometimes I’m even in bed, if I’m feeling particularly clever.” Jimmy shot up from where he had been slouching on the dinner table to find Mary smirking down at him. 

He huffed, “Yes Mr Carson, I’ll go tuck myself up in bed Mr Carson.” Mary laughed lightly before sitting down beside him, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes.

“Don’t know why you’re resisting, I’d love nothing more than being tucked up asleep right now,” she replied, with an exaggerated, almost sarcastic, sigh.

“Why don’t you then?”

“Waiting for the bath,” she groaned, with a disgruntled expression. “Daisy ran into me in the kitchens, and now I’m wearing sticky toffee pudding. Why she’s making it at this time of night is anyone’s guess.”

Jimmy couldn’t see a crumb on her, and told her so with bemusement. “Wait for it,” she said, before standing up and turning her back to him.

He couldn’t help but laugh. No part of the back of her was unscathed, not from the neatly tied bun at the back of her head, to the grey pinafore. It was all covered in viscous, albeit delicious smelling, pudding.

“Lily’s still in there,” she continued, after giving him a fond frown. “Honestly that girl couldn’t be quick if she was on fire and a mile from a water bucket.” He chuckled, before standing and stretching his back, aching after sitting in one chair for too long. 

“I’ll see you in the morning then, after you’ve managed to clean up that mess anyway.” She bid him goodnight, and he continued up to his bedroom, where he fell soundly asleep with a large smile plastered on his face.

-

“Fire! FIRE!”

Jimmy bolted upright, alert instantly after the loud bang on his bedroom door. He quickly glanced at his clock where it was placed on his nightstand; it was only an hour after he had fallen asleep.

He climbed out of bed, shoved some shoes on his feet, before hurrying into the corridor. He immediately bumped into Mr Carson, who ushered him quickly to the back door in a line of the rest of male servants, before bringing them to a halt in front of the house, where the family were already waiting, wrapped in dressing gowns over their pyjamas.

Oh Jimmy thought bitterly with a roll of his eyes, of course, family first, the peasants after, no matter if they get a couple burns, we’ll just get some new ones. Prats.

It was a cold night, bitter, and Jimmy desperately wished he had thought to grab one of his jackets, or a dressing gown of his own. He started to feel gooseflesh rise on his exposed forearms.

He heard the female staff start to arrive at the front of the house by the voice of Mrs Hughes hurrying them along (“No one’s going to be looking at your hair Ivy I promise you, I think we’ll all be a bit preoccupied by the fire dear,”) and turned, they were all huddled close to each other, with their hair all in loose braids. It was strange, he pondered, he had never seen Mary with her hair down, he wondered how long it’d be. He began to search her out, it would be easy, he reckoned, with how tall she is, he should just be able to see her even if she was behind every maid stacked on top of each other.

Jimmy frowned, she wasn’t there. He walked forward, pushing apart the maids and assistant cooks along the way before reaching Mrs Hughes. “Where’s Mary?” he asked, probably quite rudely, but that didn’t seem to matter much at the moment.

“What was that?” she replied, distracted by looking over her staff.

“Mary, Mrs Hughes, dark hair, good for helping to reach a tall shelf.” She blanched. 

“Is she not already here? I could’ve sworn I heard her voice in the corridor, saying she’d be right here.” He replied in the negative, obviously she wasn’t here, otherwise why would he have asked?

He turned away, immediately heading for Mr Carson, interrupting his conversation with Lord Grantham, “Mary’s not here.” he snapped out brusquely. They both frowned.

“What’s this about me being missing? I can assure you I’m as safe a houses, well most houses anyway,” Lady Mary said, walking over to them, with a glance at her home, where smoke was beginning to billow out of one of the windows.

“Not you!” he bit out, receiving a disbelieving look from Lord Grantham, and a raised eyebrow at his tone. He continued, ignoring Carson’s abrupt “James! What’re you thinking-” hissed in his ear.

“My Ma- um, that is to say, Mary Barrow, y’know the other one,” he stammered out, uncharacteristically nervous.

“She’s not here? Was she not with Mrs Hughes?” Carson questioned. Jimmy began to try and explain that he had, surprisingly, already tried the housekeeper, thank you Mr Carson, when he heard someone swearing under their breathe nearby.

“Ah, bloody hell,” he heard. “Of course, why not, just what I needed, hypothermia and being stabbed by a thousand fucking pieces of grav-“

“Mary!” Carson exclaimed loudly, and Jimmy, thrilled that she wasn’t going to burn to death, turned sharply on his heel, a shout of relief ready on his lips. However he didn’t manage to get out more than an indistinguishable garble before he was looking at her, and after that he wasn’t capable of saying much at all.

Mary was standing there dressed only in a towel, without even socks on her feet. Her hair, no longer such a mystery to Jimmy after all, was dripping wet and fell down her back, pushed behind her shoulder. She had a distantly angered look on her face, but frankly, Jimmy had only spared a cursory glance at her face before his eyes wondered.

It was actually quite a large towel, all things considered, with nothing between her upper chest and lower thighs showing at all, but it was definitely not how many women would be chosen to be seen by nearly everyone they knew and their employer. 

Her pale skin was flushed a pretty pink all over, as far as Jimmy could see, likely forms he heat of the bath he though dumbly. Her somewhat broad should covered with a surprising amount of freckles over her collarbones. Her legs were muscled, shown off by her shivering in place and moving up to her tiptoes, before falling back down to the balls of her feet. She had tucked the towel under her armpits securely, and had folded her arms around her middle, obviously trying to conserve as much warmth as she could. She may not be the most delicate woman Jimmy had ever seen (if the most undressed in person), but he could’ve stared at her forever.

It seemed as if the rest of the crowd were as stunned as he was, if not for quite the same reasons. Mr Carson’s yell startled Jimmy out of his daze. 

“What do you think you are doing? Coming out here undressed, in front of the staff?. In front of the family!” Mary glanced around, uncommonly unnerved by situation, before replying in a heated tone of her own.

“What’d you want me to do, burn to death? Have the firemen fetch me naked out of the bath?” she quipped with fire in her eyes. Mr Carson stuttered, clearly this was not a question he was prepared to answer, at least with so many witnesses around.

“Could you not at least found a dressing gown, any clothing at all would have sufficed!” he replied after a pause.

“There was already smoke under the door by the time I’d noticed, wasn’t exactly going to hang around was I?”

Lord Grantham, one of the few with a layer to spare, hurried forward, undoing the tie quickly before wrapping his dressing around Mary’s shoulders gingerly. 

“Right you are Barrow, no need for death for the sake of a few uncomfortable moments, surely you agree Carson? Can’t begrudge a woman escaping for her life can we?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. to which Carson hastily replied to the negative, even if his expression clearly showed that he did think proprietary came before all else, thank you very much.

Now that Mary was slightly less distracting, if only just, Jimmy glanced around to gauge how everyone had reacted to the performance. The maids were, unsurprisingly, giggling in their herd and whispering behind their hands at each other. Alfred and Molsely both looked bit gobsmacked, well Jimmy thought, they’ve probably never seen a woman’s ankles in the flesh, never mind as much their clavicle or above their knees. Alfred looked distantly pink across the nose and ears. Meanwhile, Miss O’Brien unpleasant as ever, looked completely unfazed, was making no attempt to hide her smirking looks in Mary’s direction. Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore were having terse words next to them, probably wondering how they had managed to lose a whole ladies maid in a two minute walking journey.

Meanwhile, the while no less shocked, showed it less openly. Her Ladyship had a slightly gaping mouth and wide eyes, mirroring both of her daughters stunned expressions. Well, he supposed, it’s not everyday you see a beautiful woman wondering around in a towel on the front entrance. Lady Edith, seeing that Mary was still shivering violently, also stepped forward to offer her gown, which her maid took eagerly. She did an elaborate move, managing to lower her towel below tied gowns, while Lord Grantham looked away sheepishly, and twisted it into a turban, with her hair trapped inside.

Rather than looking as otherworldly as she had minutes ago, Jimmy now thought she looked a little silly, though still quite pretty. She gave a small, reassuring smile to Lord Grantham and Lady Edith, who both returned it, before wandering back over to the rest of their family. The fact he was seeing a side of her that he hadn’t witnessed before sent a thrill through him, but he composed himself before strolling over.

“Is this one of them new hairstyles you’re trying out then. I’ve got to say it’s one of my favourite, this set of dressing gowns really set of the towel.” he joked, only to receive a deeply unimpressed look in return.

“Yes, yes. Absolutely hilarious. Thanks ever so for your compassion,” she bit out through chattering teeth. He felt himself sober, realising just how cold she must be feeling.

“Right, yeah, sorry, um,” he stuttered, “anything I can do?”

“Got a spare uniform tucked away somewhere?” She said with a forgiving grin. He smiled in return, grateful she wasn’t more angry. “No then, I think there isn’t much you could do.”

Jimmy was thankful when, no more than ten seconds later, he began to hear the approach of the firemen. He, with the rest of the house, watched them enter in a hurry, dragging their houses behind them and yelling to each other. He huddled in closer to Mary, “It’s your half day the day after tomorrow isn’t it?” she nodded, “If I can get a bit of time off, fancy going to Thirsk?”

Mary nodded again, “Sounds good, I think I’ll need a bit of cheering up after this disaster.”

They were soon ushered back into the house, the firemen claiming there had been a blaze in one of the sitting rooms that they had managed to corral, and that it was safe to go back to bed. They left soon after, though not without a few open looks at Mary, who responded with a roll of her eyes.

As they made their way back in to the warmth of the abbey, Jimmy eavesdropped on the conversation nearest, sure it would bring much entertainment:

(“I thought you said you saw smoke, Mary, and that was the reason for this display?”

“Must have been steam I suppose.”

“You appeared on the front lawn in a towel because of some steam?”

“Well my apologies for hearing hooves and thinking horse, Mr Carson.”) Jimmy smirked, that was his Mary, didn’t take any sort of accusation lying down. He grinned all the way through saying yet another goodnight to Mary, Alfred, and Carson, resulting suspicious looks from all, before walking back down the corridor to his room.

Great, Jimmy thought, as he got back into bed, it’s a date.

-

“You’ll not get anywhere, with Mary that it, you know that don’t you?” Mrs Patmore, as cheery as ever, appeared in front of him. He was standing at the entrance to the kitchens, as agreed earlier, wearing his best suit, and his hair painstakingly styled.

“Just an outing with a friend, Mrs Patmore,” he replied cooly.

“Well as long as you’re not expecting more than she’s giving lad, she’s-“

Mary, with impeccable timing, cleared her throat and entered the hall. It was the second time Jimmy had seen her with her hair not in one of her elaborate knots, but this time it was curled elegantly, with the front pinned back to frame her face. She was also dressed in an outfit he had never seen her in before, being neither her uniform or a towel, nor one he had ever seen worn by any other woman downstairs on their days off. In fact, the closest outfit he could picture was one worn by Lady Mary. It was a dark brown waistcoat, over a white shirt, but under a long coat, with a matching brown skirt down to her feet. She looked, as always, extremely beautiful.

“Ready then, Jimmy,” she asked with an expectant smile. He startled out of his daze, placed his flat cap on his head, and held out an arm extravagantly with a bow.

“Always ready for you Miss Barrow,” he said with a wink, receiving a fond roll of his eyes from Mary, and a loud huffed breath from Mrs Patmore. From this close, he could see the subtle rouge on her cheeks, the dark gloss on her lips, and the dark shadow of her long eyelashes. He eagerly escorted her out of the back door, where they set on the trail into the village.

“What’s the plan then?” Mary asked, disentangling her arm from his to skirt around a puddle. He laid out his plan: first the cobblers to drop off a pair of Lord Grantham’s shoes for repair (the only reason he had managed to get the afternoon off with Carson), before catching a picture at the film house, then maybe a drink at the pub if they felt like it. She agreed easily, and they spent the rest of the walk discussing what films they had seen recently, with scathing commentary for most of them from Mary sending him into peals of laughter (“Honestly, I’ve been scared more by seeing Carson in his pyjamas the other night, could he not have saved us all the trauma and put some more layers on?”).

He delivered the shoes, as promised during his impassioned pleading to Carson, and they swiftly made their way to the picture house, where they watched a truly dull film about a sea witch hoping to gain control over land dwellers (how they had managed to turn that plot into something Jimmy could barely keep his eyes open in was a mystery). They finally managed to settle at the pub, where Jimmy, weirdly overcome with a mixture of nerves and excitement, begin to drink perhaps bit more than he usually would.

He watched as Mary spoke lowly to the barmaid, head tilted towards her with a smirk on her face. Whatever Mary said resulted in the woman flushing prettily, before giving a wide grin back as she handed over their drinks, not accepting the coins that Mary tried to pass over as payment with a small shake of the head. Jimmy wasn’t sure what to make of the exchange, but didn’t put too much thought into it, instead just downing half of the pint Mary had bought him.

—

They wandered through the park, heading towards the path back to the abbey, but not straight towards it. Jimmy was definitely starting to feel the effect of the many drinks he had managed to down in quick succession, and he begun to lose track of exactly where his legs were meant to go.

“Whoa!” Mary laughed, gripping his arm to keep him upright, “You alright there Jimmy?” Her grip felt warm on his arm, and Jimmy just couldn’t help it, he leaned his face towards hers.

“What’re do you think you’re doing?” she snapped rearing back, her expression going flat. 

“Come on Mary, don’t tease, give us a kiss,” he slurred, moving towards her again, his arm curling around her waist, and leaning up. to reach her face.

“No! Don’t, God, get off you arse!” she growled, pushing on his shoulders, but he past listening, drunk on cheap cider and the pull of her lips, and he managed to catch her in a kiss. Her lips were flush and open against his, and he groaned lightly, intoxicated.

He didn’t get long to enjoy it however, as she suddenly put much more force behind her arms, sending him stumbling backwards. Dazed, he had no idea what was happening before a sudden burst of pain on his nose sent him sprawling on the floor. He looked up slowly to see Mary retracting her arm from where it was swung outwards, and realised she had punched him square in the face. He sobered quickly with the thought that he had made her angry enough to sock him one in the middle of a park. 

She advanced on him with a furious twist on her face, yelling as loud as he had ever heard her, “What do you think I meant by ’No’ you prick? For God’s sake!”

Unthinkingly, he stuttered out a weak apology, more than a bit scared by her ire. It seemed to have at least some on her affect on her, her shoulders lowered from where she had raised them by her ears, and her expression fell into disappointment. 

“You didn’t want to be friends at all did you? You just wanted to cop a feel. Why did I believe you were even the slightest bit different than the rest of them? Just, just leave me alone Jimmy, I mean it, don’t talk to me again.” She turned, deflated and walked swiftly back towards the abbey with her, surprisingly strong it had to be said, arms tucked around her middle.

Oh, Jimmy thought, leavering himself up onto his hands and knees, perhaps she really didn’t fancy him after all. 

-

When Jimmy returned to the house, after peeling himself off of the floor many minutes later, he was not met with a furious Mrs Hughes or Carson, ready to give him a verbal thrashing or a dismissal, as he was expecting. In fact, it seemed that no one knew anything was amiss at all. A fuss was raised by the the housekeeper over the new cut on his nose, but she didn’t seem to suspect at all that it was her ladies maid who had put it there.

“Some muggers Mrs Hughes,” Mary interjected, before he had had a chance to try and explain away his injuries. “Don’t worry, I fought them off,” she said with a large grin, holding up her fist, which had begun to bruise across the knuckles.

“You fought off muggers, Mary?” Alfred exclaimed incredulously and received a proud nod, before turning to Jimmy, “What were you then?” he demanded.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you fight off the muggers, did you just let Mary handle them all?” he asked, now with a laugh in his voice. “I didn’t know you needed a bodyguard Jimmy, and a woman one at that!”

“I think the problem was,” Mary crowed in a fake conspiratorial whisper, “that he couldn’t reach any of their faces!”

Alfred roared with laughter, always happy to mock Jimmy about anything that he could. Meanwhile, he noticed Mrs Hughes glancing suspiciously between Jimmy’s nose and Mary’s fist. She looked Mary dead in the face with a questioning look, to which she shook her head with a subdued, but reassuring, smile. With that, Mrs Hughes subtly nodded and backed away, though she still looked unconvinced by the story. Clearly, Jimmy thought, this was some form of communication that woman had mastered subtly in the company of men, and he had no idea what it had meant, and he was sure Alfred hadn’t even noticed it taking place.

Not wanting to push his luck any further than he already had, Jimmy beat a hasty retreat.

-

He wasn’t sure why exactly Mary wasn’t telling everyone what an arse he had made of himself (as he clearly had, he wasn’t sure how it’d gone so wrong), but he was grateful for it. Every time she opened her mouth at the dinner table he tensed in his chair, waiting for her to drop sly hints that would slowly be greedily eaten up by the righteous Mr and Mrs Bates, or anyone else with even a passing dislike of Jimmy (which, these days, seemed to be more than one person).

But it never seemed to happen. He knew that she was plenty capable of dropping much bigger scandals on their heads at the dinner table, and smaller secrets were just her version of small talk if she felt like it. However, it seemed that she wasn’t inclined to say a thing. He couldn’t imagine that she was frightened about how the story would reflect on her; a woman who was as proud in a bath towel as fully clothed likely wasn’t to self-conscious. It likely also wasn’t out of loyalty to Jimmy, not with how much disgust and anger she had thrown at him, along with her fist, that day at the park. 

She hadn’t talked to him for days, which had drawn a few curious looks when he was overtly passed by for conversation. Instead, she seemed to sit mostly alone, fixing whatever garment Lady Edith had managed to break recently, occasionally engaging in conversation with O’Brien if she hadn’t spoken in a while. At first, she even avoided looking in his direction. However, as time went on she seemed to be thawing, if only slightly, glancing at him when he entered a room, or focusing a stern, considering stare at him at dinner. Jimmy, feeling both embarrassed and quite rejected, nursed his broken pride and made sure to stay well clear. The last thing he wanted now was to annoy her into getting him fired.

But he did miss her, it was quite boring to be stuck between Alfred and Mosley, especially when he could usually rely on a smart comment in his ear to lighten his mood. He began to fully realise how much more Mary meant to him than just a pretty face. She had looked out for him when he needed it, and knew when he had needed to have moment to himself without him having to snap. He even missed their nightly routine where they struggled through a crossword in the paper (for a woman so obviously intelligent and well read, she was truly shocking at a crossword). Even the lack of their smaller exchanges, such as swapping articles they had seen that the other would surely enjoy (anything with a new film for Jimmy, anything involving new hairstyles or the local cricket for Mary), began to weigh on him.

Still, he had accepted that he had royally cocked things up beyond any hopes of repair. He couldn’t really expect her to forgive him, not from what he had heard about her infamous grudge against those who have pissed her off.

—

However, not two days after he had reached this conclusion, Mary escaped expectations once again, approaching him after the had bid the others goodnight and was trudging up to bed.

“I’m done being angry now,” he had heard behind him. He had turned, surprised, Mary was speaking, at him even!

“Sorry?” he had asked awkwardly, not quite sure what she had meant. 

“Well that’s a start I suppose,” she had quipped, a slightly nervous smile on her face. 

“I am! Sorry that is, don’t know what came over me,” he had breathed, “I know I’m not exactly a knight in shining armour, but I shouldn’t of gone that far.” It was strange, Jimmy had mused, he hadn’t apologised in years without any prompting, never mind with this much sincerity. But if she was throwing him a lifeline, he certainly wasn’t going to pass up a chance to pull himself back to shore.

“Not exactly friendly behaviour, was it?” Mary had said, unwilling to cave just that easily. He had sheepishly agreed with her. He had recently acknowledged that perhaps he had been wrong on this occasion after all, and when she had laid out the terms of their relationship, she had appeared to actually mean it. 

“You’re forgiving me then? I thought you’d given up on me.” Jimmy had asked, he couldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t want to talk to him now.

“You did listen to me about keeping your distance, even if you did pout every time I opened my mouth to talk to someone and it didn’t end up being you. Besides, I missed having a mate, what can I say? O’Brien doesn’t give me any help with the crosswords.” she had grinned, before sobering.

“I do feel a bit guilty about it, I admit,” she had muttered, hanging her head slightly. His brow had furrowed in confusion, looking back on the night, there wasn’t exactly much she had done wrong, discounting her unflattering impression on the barkeeps strong Birmingham accent. Maybe for the punch in the face, it wasn’t the most ladylike solution after all.

“I mean, I knew you fancied me, at least a bit, and I did go out with you.” Oh, not sorry for the punch then, Jimmy had thought, amused. Still he better not push his luck and fish for an apology.

“Nah,” he had replied nonchalantly, “Not your fault I can’t take a hint is it.”

“No, I suppose not,” she had said, a smile growing on her face again, one of those pretty, genuine ones that reached her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell everyone, about me kissing you and everything?” he had asked suddenly.

“Not sure really,” she had replied with a light shrug, “I think I would’ve done with anyone else, but you just looked so sad sitting there, and really the slap seemed punishment enough.”

“Slap!” Jimmy had exclaimed, “If that’s a slap then I’d hate to see how much damage a punch off of you could do!” To which she smirked proudly.

“Friends? Proper friends, with no ulterior motives an’ everything?” he had asked slyly, putting out a hand for her to shake.

“I can manage that if you can,” she had replied, reaching out a hand for him to shake, and gave him a fond roll of the eyes when he had taken it, turned it over and placed a kiss on the back of it with an over exaggerated wink. She had playfully snatched her hand back and wiped it obviously on her dress, though she had followed it with a grin.

“I’m glad Miss Barrow, I’m really glad.”

**Author's Note:**

> (I know it's not actually said, but she is a lesbian. She didn't tell him because she thinks of him as a friend, but he hasn't exactly made himself trustworthy.)
> 
> Also, I'm pretty sure Edith didn't have a ladies maid, but Thomas created his own job in canon, so why the hell not?


End file.
